Pamela Izevbekhai's case is gone down the tubes, and public anger at her is widespread. Somebody forged the documents on which the case was based.

She suggests it was her husband. He says it was him. She says she didn't know. All of which divides the issue in two.

Firstly, there's the media controversy about how Philip Boucher Hayes could have been fed a bum steer, given that, as he says, he got the hospital number from International Directory Enquiries and was put through without warning.

So how could an imposter have lined up all the guff in response to an unexpected phone call? Either this is the most elaborate hoax in the history of hoaxes or weird coincidences or misunderstandings are in play.

It's all very interesting. But it's a side issue. The reality is that Pamela and her girls are likely to find themselves back in Nigeria in jig time, without a following wave of sympathy from Ireland.

But Simon Coveney, the Fine Gael spokesperson who supported Pamela's case, points out that it's not as simple as punishing a woman who -- deliberately or accidentally -- presented a false case when seeking asylum.

Coveney pointed out on last night's Questions & Answers that no matter who did what, the reality is that the context into which the family will move has changed.

Circumcision

And, arguably, that change is for the worse. The Nigerian government has been dragged through international media as -- at best -- failing to prevent female genital circumcision.

The Nigerian government is not going to like that, and it would have been angry with the woman who did it, even if she had done it with valid documentation.

That puts her and her daughters, on their return to their home country, in a position of potential danger, quite apart from the threat to the two children she had earlier claimed. It's a Catch 22.

On the one hand is the fact that some 30 million Nigerian women have undergone this brutal mutilation, and therefore the chances that the two girls will be subjected to it are reasonably high.

On the other is the hope that because of the international coverage, the family will be left alone. Nobody has any guarantees either way.

In this country, the issue is now dogged by fury at having our concern and goodwill misused. But that's not the point. People, including those who supported this articulate woman in her asylum bid, are now enraged at the amount of money she has cost the state. But that's not the point, either.

The issue is further complicated by the legitimate desire of the authorities not to create a precedent. From a systems point of view, that's valid. But systems should serve people and the fear of a precedent should never prevent a state from taking positive protective action.

Put aside the mother. Put aside the fraud. Put aside speculation as to how it was done, or the real motivation behind it. Look to the children. Here are two teenage girls who have spent several years in this country, fully integrated into the Irish education system, set fair, it seemed, to be successful and contributory members of our society.

trauma

Now they are to be torn from their community, their school and their neighbourhood and returned to a country they fear, with some justification. The trauma to the two of them will be profound, even if they escape mutilation.

There is at least a case for suggesting that in this instance, Ireland might show itself to be bigger, more generous and more caring than these parents deserve. In the interests of the children.

- Terry Prone